


Violets Are Blue

by Tousled_Sky



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Acceptance, Angst, Chronic Illness, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt No Comfort, Loss of love, M/M, Moving On, Surgery, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-18 22:45:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11884422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tousled_Sky/pseuds/Tousled_Sky
Summary: It's not until Yuri holds the first intact flower in his hand - still damp, still warm - that he can clearly identify what it is. A yellow carnation.Yellow carnations signal negativity. Disappointment.Rejection.





	Violets Are Blue

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know when Victor started coaching Yuri so I just said it was when Yuri was ten in this fic.  
> I don't really see a lot of Yuri/Victor out there. I know that there's a *rather significant* age gap, and that's a reason for most people to be turned away from this pairing. But honestly, you can't tell me that Yuri didn't have a *huge gay crush* on Victor (and one on Yuuri as well, for that matter, but that's a topic for another fanfiction). So I figured I'd add a Hanahaki story to the tag of the Two Gay Russian Skaters™. Enjoy~

Yuri had always thought his first love was skating.

The moment he fell in love with the ice was the first time he saw Victor. He was five years old, sitting on his knees on the floor, leaning forward slightly as his eyes were intensely locked on the television. He was completely enraptured by the sport, by the boy performing- fascinated by the way the Victor's body slid across the rink, how it twisted in the air like a dance.

All he had thought in that ethereal moment was, _'I want that'_.

Now, Yuri's not so sure that it was skating that he had fallen in love with.

\-----

The first petal comes the night after he sees their matching gold rings.

The bands shine as they rest on Victor and Yuuri's fingers, the jewelry making the two look even more the part of a perfect couple than they already do. And they already look very much like a couple - Victor always leaning on Yuuri, or brushing his hand against the smaller man and making him blush and stutter in protest. Yuuri, likewise, spends his time stealing shy little glances at Victor that are supposed to be secretive but are as obvious as a neon sign, making him look like a smitten schoolgirl.

But all that had just been flirting. And flirting was something that Yuri's mind could spin into something less malicious, less painful - two fellow skaters who were friends and only teasing one another. He could pretend that those touches were playful jostles instead of caresses, pretend that when they leaned in close to each other, Victor's whispers that made Yuuri blush were dirty jokes instead of flattery.

He knew better, but he didn't want to believe it. And it was nice to be able to trick himself.

But the rings took the illusion away. They ripped away the idea, nice though it was, that Yuuri and Victor were just student and coach, or rival skaters, or best friends - or anything, anything other than lovers.

And when Yuri starts coughing, he knows why. He's had the itch in the back of his throat for months now, from the sickening sweet behavior of his two elder skaters - he's been waiting for this for a while.

During the first coughing episode, while he's trying to dislodge the intrusion, he wonders what color the flower will be. He expects that maybe the hue will be a metallic silver, like Victor's hair; or maybe blue like his eyes.

He doesn't know what it means to hold a yellow petal in his hand.

\-----

Victor started coaching Yuri when he was ten, but it wasn't until he was fifteen that the petals came.

Yuri had always known, dimly, that Victor didn't feel the same way about him as Yuri felt about Victor. But the full gravity of the situation didn't hit him until Victor actually fell in love; fell in love with someone who wasn't him.

It was _seeing_ the difference that fueled the sickness. Remembering how cold and clinical Victor had always been in correcting Yuri's posture; the older remaining unaffected even if the touches made his student's heart race. And now, seeing Victor's sneaky little touches and squeezes on Katsudon while correcting his posture; with that mischievous grin and the flush behind his silver fringe that wasn't caused by the cold.

Recalling Victor's stoic congratulations whenever Yuri would take a medal - the lack of enthusiasm for his accomplishments that used to make Yuri so sad, until he had convinced himself that Victor _did_ care (he _must_ , because he was still here, unlike Yuri's mother), and that his closed-book front was just tough love. But yet, despite every medal, Victor never smiled, or hugged Yuri, or told him _"You did great, I'm proud of you"_. Rather, Yuri's medals were met with a distracted, detached Victor commenting, _"That was okay, Yura, but you need to work on X and really need to correct Y"._

And now, seeing Victor kiss - _kiss!_ \- fat Katsudon for getting _one set_ right. Seeing him kneel to brush his lips over Piggy's skates. Like Yuuri was the most amazing thing Victor had ever laid eyes on.

Seeing, now, how much Victor loves Yuuri made Yuri realize how little he had meant to Victor.

The petals come heavier with every reminder of how unloved Yuuri is; how unloved he's been for the entire five years that Victor has coached him.

\-----

  
It takes him a little while to figure out what kind of flower he's been coughing up. 

He first tries to search the type of flower when the few petals turn to handfuls, but torn, crumpled, blood-dotted yellow petals aren't much to go off of. It's not until he holds the first intact flower in his hand - still damp, still warm - that he can clearly identify what it is.

A yellow carnation. He's read about this one.

It signals negativity. Disappointment. Rejection.

Yuri laughs, and then cries, his fist closing around the deadly little flower and squeezing it. At the same time, he can feel the plant in his lungs squeeze his airways a little harder, as if in retaliation. But it's not revenge from a sentient flower - the increase in pressure happens every time that Yuri realizes yet another way that Victor doesn't love him back.

He falls asleep with tear tracks on his face. 

When he wakes up, he washes the yellow residue out from under his nails from where they had dug into the damp petals. He keeps scrubbing even when it's already gone; washes his hands until the soap pump is giving airy foam instead of any real amount of soap and his hands are close to bleeding.

Then he sits and writes until all he can think of is scrawled across the paper.

\-----

Yuri knows exactly what's happening to him. It's not like Hanahaki disease is a secret.

But he keeps the fact that he has it a secret. Goes for "bathroom breaks" whenever he feels a coughing fit coming on. Blames his shortness of breath on asthma that he doesn't have.

He knows he can't keep it a secret forever. Lilla is worried about him, and he has to tiptoe around his conversation topics with her to avoid the suggestion of a visit to the doctor. Otabek isn't buying the lie that he's okay; he keeps trying to meet up, and Yuri can feel his concern in his tone during phone calls, in his words during text conversations. Yuri feels bad for it but keeps dodging him, afraid that he'll slip up in front of Otabek; spill petals from his lips, spill his secret. 

His strange behavior is tipping off a lot of people. Almost everyone he knows.

Expect Victor. Because Victor's eyes are too busy tracking every line and plane of Katsudon's body to spare a moment for Yuri; to maybe notice the stress in his posture, the paleness of his skin.

The fact that Victor is too enamored to notice anything is off lends a...strange mix of emotion to Yuri. On one hand, it's a blessing, since Yuri isn't at risk of being caught by the cause of his aliment. But at the same time, it's a curse, because it doubles the number of petals that stick to Yuri's tongue, that crush between his teeth. 

The increasing number of the petals, and the increased number of times they come per day, scares Yuri to death; makes him scared of death. And the anxiety shows in his skating. Shows in the concern on the faces of the few people who come the closest to actually caring about him.

He can't keep it a secret forever. If he doesn't tell anyone, his death will be what lets them know.

And he's going to tell someone. Just not yet. 

He needs just a little more time. A little more time to sort out his mind, his feelings. Make his decision.

He revises, crosses out, scribbles in margins, re-writes over and over again, until he's as satisfied as he's going to get with the words on the page.

\-----

  
He thinks about just giving Victor the letter he's written.

He really doesn't want to talk about it. To sound like some blushing middle schooler confessing a crush. But a letter is even more embarrassing - giving him a letter and then running off sounds so shy and bashful. And it's possible that Victor wouldn't even read it.

Yuri won't let himself hope, because honestly, he _doesn't_ think there's a chance his feeling will be returned. But he's made his decision - and it's that he's going to at least _try_. He _has_ to - he can't spend the rest of his life wondering _what if_.

He doesn't bring a letter for Victor. He doesn't bring anything - he's written down everything so many times that he remembers every point. Every little thing he wants to say to Victor about how he feels.

But everything he was planning on saying is lost to the fucking void minutes into conversation with Victor, because Victor brings up Katsudon. And it's all downhill from there.

Yuri makes a face at Piggy's name, Victor takes offense, and within minutes they're in the middle of the biggest fight they've ever had. An impressive feat, really, considering they've had no small number of large fights over the past five years.

But Victor's never been _this angry_ before. He's been so pissed that he's had to leave for hours to cool down, but never as white-hot furious as he is now.

Victor's never looked at Yuri with _hate_ before. Expasperation, sure. Annoyance, plenty. Never hate like now.

Victor's never _hit_ Yuri before.

Hours later, sitting on the floor of his dark hotel room, Yuri squeezes an handful of deadly yellow petals, the floor around him littered with many more. And as if the amount of petals wasn't enough cause for alarm, accompanying the flower petals he's coughing up are little green _leaves_ , terrifyingly enough - their color sickly green, their edges pinprick sharp.

With his other hand, he lightly traces over the too-hot, puffy skin of his blackened eye. 

_'It doesn't matter if I didn't get to say what I wanted to',_ Yuri concludes in the dark room, holding flowers of rejection in one hand and touching an injury of rejection with the other.

Because in the end, Yuri still got an answer to his question.

\-----

Yuri wakes up on his floor, his black eyes swollen shut and the yellow petals scattered around him. The mess of soft foliage vaguely reminds him of a nest - yet this isn't symbolic of the start of his life, but rather, the start of his death.

He unlocks his phone, groaning inwardly at the eight missed calls from Lilla and the one text message that just reads, "Call me NOW, Yura."

He hits "Call back" on the notification for one of the eight missed calls. Lilla picks up before the second ring and begins to berate him without even offering a greeting.

He sits through the scolding - _"What were you thinking, do you have any idea how angry Victor is with both you and I, don't you know that when you act out it reflects negatively on me as well, what do you have to say for yourself?"_

He doesn't reply to any of her complaints, doesn't answer any of her questions.

Instead, all he says is _"I need to go to the hospital",_ thankful that his voice doesn't shake around the words.

_"Why?"_ Is what she demands in response to such a difficult admission from him, her voice too angry to be concerned.

He explains quietly into the receiver, cursing inwardly when his voice breaks on the final syllable of _hanahaki._

Her voice is sober and void of any of the anger that had been so front and center only a minute earlier when she replies, _"I'll be there as soon as I can"._

\-----

They keep Yuri's withdrawal from the skating scene as quiet as possible.

Lilla doesn't offer a reason to the press as to why Yuri is pulled from the next month's competitions. Doesn't let him answer Otabek's worried calls after Yuri vanishes from Japan in the middle of the season. Calls the major news stations and keeps Yuri's name and news of his "mysterious disappearance" off the air under threat of lawsuits, since it's due to medical reasons and he's legally a minor. 

Once they're in the hospital, once everything is in order for the surgery, the doctors ask Yuri over and over if he's sure.

_"You won't have any feelings for who you're in love with anymore."_ They warn. _"If you think that you could be happy with them, you should try confessing."_

Yuri shakes his head, explaining, _"I tried already."_ It's not a lie, not really- he did try, but he never told Victor that he loved him. He didn't get that far.

_"What did they say?"_

_"I gave them my confession, and they gave me this in return."_ Yuri lies, pointing to his black eye.

It's close enough to the truth that they believe him.

It's close enough that he can believe that telling Victor that he loved him wouldn't have made a difference.

Knowing Victor, he muses, feeling the throbbing in his eye slowing as the anesthesia takes hold, it probably wouldn't have mattered.

It _definitely_ wouldn't have.

\-----

Yuri can't speak for weeks afterwards.

He stays in the hospital for a week, and then with his grandfather (who's worried sick when he sees Yuri's condition, and Yuri feels even worse about making his grandfather fret than he did about worrying Otabek) in Russia for several months. He can't go back to skating right after a surgery, and he doesn't want to, anyways.

He's got a lot of emotional baggage to sort through.

He's not in love with Victor anymore, but he still has mixed feelings about him. Hurt and anger over his cold treatment of Yuri for all those years. Still grossed out (though no longer devastated) over the PDA Victor shows Katsudon. Mostly, though, Yuri's disoriented by the abrupt absence of the love and the pain; by the sudden loss of such powerful feelings. It's like a weight has been taken from a balanced scale, making his world lurch, making him trip over his feet. It's confusing, conflicting.

It's this unbalance that leads him to freak out, thinking that maybe he'd made the wrong decision - that he should have tried again to speak to Victor before getting his love cut from his lungs. But that silliness is put to rest when Lilla, looking regretful to bring such news, tells him that she'd let it slip to Otabek that Yuri had been hospitalized (though she had withheld the real reason for Yuri's hospitalization - Otabek thought Yuri was recovering from lung cancer).

Yuri's breath catches when Lilla confesses that Victor knew too - that Otabek had told Victor that Yuri was in the hospital before Lilla could warn him to keep it quiet. 

Otabek, whom Yuri had known for five months and was a rival to, was coming to Russia to visit him.

Victor, whom Yuri had known for five years and had been a student to, was not.

Yuri doesn't let himself fret about the disorientation he gets when he expects pain at this news but only receives the absence of it - no stabbing in his heart, no squeeze of roots in his throat. Instead, he welcomes the absence of pain and focuses on the anger he feels.

Victor's hurt Yuri too badly to deserve Yuri to hurt any more for him, he decides as his fingers press lightly into the faded, nearly-gone bruise over his eye.

This anger, though?

This anger _is_ deserved.

\-----

Yuri feels angry about many things in the month following the surgery, but one of the big reasons is that he feels overwhelming cheated.

He knows he's not entitled to Victor's affections, but he feels cheated nonetheless. Feels cheated for the five years he spent pining after Victor, thinking that Victor loved Yuri in a "tough love" sort of way, only to find out that he'd never been anything but an annoyance to Victor. He feels cheated for the months that he spends voiceless, recovering from the deadly sickness that Victor had caused to grow in him. Feels cheated because of the long recovery time, knowing recovery only takes so long because of the many months that Yuri let the sickness grow in his body; because he had dared to hope that there was any chance his feeling could be returned, only to have Victor hit him when he went to confess.

He feels cheated when he's finally well enough to skate again, and the ice that used to fill him with passion leaves him indifferent. 

There's just an empty feeling where his heart should be when his blades touch the ice - a black hole where a sun once was. Empty and cold where it should be fiery passion. 

And in that moment, Yuri realized it wasn't skating that he'd fallen in love with at five years old. It was Victor.

And, he recognizes with a start, he never really loved skating - he just loved Victor. He'd thought he'd loved skating because that was what Victor was doing when Yuri first saw him, what he saw when he first fell in love. 

In addition to that, he loved Victor, and Victor is the very personification of skating. In the end, it wasn't the silver of the ice Yuri loved, but the silver of Victor's hair. He didn't love the twists and turns of routines, but he loved how Victor performed them.

That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt to have this ripped away from him. It hurts like hell.

Yuri feels like Victor has stolen many things from him, but this is by far the worst. Months of going without his voice was a heavy price. Five years of his life spent pining after his indifferent coach was an evil theft.

But taking his love of skating?

Victor may as well have just killed Yuri and left yellow carnations on his grave.

\-----

He stops skating.

It doesn't have the same appeal, anymore, and that makes it hurt to practice. Because _when_ he's skating is when he misses skating the most, because it's not the _same_. 

Yuri mourns his loss of love of skating more than his loss of love of Victor. Because even if Victor meant a lot to him, knowing that Yuri never meant anything to Victor makes it easier to void those past feelings. 

But skating meant a lot to Yuri, too. And skating had never hit him in the face. Skating had never wronged him.

He misses loving it.

The only silver lining to giving up skating is that he's not in the same social circle as Victor anymore. So Yuri never has to interact or speak with him again.

And he never does.

Despite how bitter he is, Yuri avoids any sort of contact with Victor. Yuri reasons that he was mature enough to confess (even if he didn't get to actually confess), then he needs to be mature enough to handle rejection (even if that rejection was half in the form of a punch and half in the form of carnations in his lungs). 

So he doesn't call Victor, doesn't write him, doesn't send him a bouquet of yellow carnations - no matter how tempting such a petty (and yes, funny, in a spiteful way) idea might be.

Likewise, Victor never contacts him. Never calls once, despite their history. Despite the fact that he knew that Yuri had spent so long in the hospital and was recovering from a surgery to remove "lung cancer". Despite the fact that Yuri doesn't change his number, doesn't change his address - leaves his channels of communication open.

Even if Yuri yearns for _something_ (closure? revenge? one last scene before the credits roll?), the smart part of him thinks that it's probably for the best that the path they had shared has split into two, and that they both went different ways. 

Never to meet again.

\-----

Years later, Yuri sees Victor's face on the television.

The channel is turned to a skating competition in some European country, and the camera cuts to Victor on the sidelines. His hair is still silver, but he's cut his fringe into regular-length bangs. His face is a little older, but he's still beautiful. 

He's sitting on the bench on the side of the rink, cuddled up next to Katsudon - Yuuri - and smiling as he nuzzles up against the smaller man. 

On the screen, Victor cups Yuuri's face with one hand. 

The wedding ring he wears shines under the arena lights.

His eyes on the television, Yuri reaches up and touches the scar on the soft skin of his throat, marveling at the lack of pain that the sight onscreen causes him. Quite the juxtaposition from the all the pain that had been caused by the first time that Yuri had seen that ring.

There are no yellow petals on Yuri's lips now, though.

Just a smile.


End file.
